His Mission

The current condition of us, a complex contradiction.
Thought to keep feelings out, ha, who the f*ck was I kidding.
This intense yearning for a forbidden fruit, she has become my addiction.
Her touch intoxicating, it destroys all my inhibitions.
Standing patient by a hole in her walls, won't enter without her permission.
She gave me warnings but I dismissed them.
Said we could never work but I didn't listen.
Now vulnerable, an unloaded gun in this little competition.
Her affection is my life's missing ammunition.
But I'll fight tooth and nail, US TOGETHER, thats the end I envision.
Her love my freedom from a self induced prison.
Her happiness my goal, my desire, my mission.
She has cut me open, entered my chest, my physician.
If you gaze upon my heart, her names engraved by her incision.
She has so many sides, I get them.
Scars to smiles, I want it all, no conditions.
She has been hard to read at times, but f*ck it I bought her whole subscription.
Had to battle competition, even see her with them, wanting her even more and saying forget this in constant opposition.
But we've grown with repetition, became a tradition, our bond defies logic and doesn't need a definition.
HER + ME = HAPPY, that's just simple addition.
Despite her saying never, I've won this war of attrition, I've been resilient, for her brilliance I put my all in it.
Holding tight to each embrace like she could be gone at any minute, withdrawals when we're apart I must have my prescription.
No longer a victim of  my scarred hearts indecision.
I did try to hold it in but f*ck man, these feelings were so fucking persistent.
Now I'm on this stage, climbing in this cage, awaiting her performance, my magician.
So as I finish, my soul in it, playing my role in her audition, I want the part, her heart my desired acquisition.
I will push on, continue to petition, chip away her walls and move around her partitions.
I can remain her accomplice, and be ok with that decision but I chose a rendition.
Not a sometimes lover, but us as a coalition, where commitment isn't sedition, a game with meaning not an exhibition.
Now we try together, our bond is reaching fruition. We ride the winds as one, you can hear us pass high in the sky at night,if you only take the time to listen.

About this poem

About my determination to win a heart and achieving it.

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Written on November 15, 2022

Submitted by timp.20352 on May 31, 2023

2:15 min read

Quick analysis:

Characters 2,264
Words 438
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 30

Tim Peterson

Aka hazytruestory Hazyspacefairy.wordpress.com more…

All Tim Peterson poems | Tim Peterson Books

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